


Her

by VillainousShakespeare



Category: High-Rise (2015)
Genre: Bondage, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillainousShakespeare/pseuds/VillainousShakespeare
Summary: Laing enjoys life in the high rise as every woman's favorite amenity, but lately he's been getting bored. When he sees Grace, he knows he has to have her, no matter what it takes.Please, please, please read the warnings. This is a dark fic unlike my usual ones.





	Her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DevilishDoll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishDoll/gifts).

> A work for my dear DevilishDoll, who has been one of my most loyal followers since I started writing last year. I appreciate your feed back and comments so much!!! Hope you enjoy! :)

Laing straightened his tie and gave himself a once over in the full length mirror. His white dress shirt was not as crisp as it once would have been, but he did not have the time these days to press and iron as he had before. There were always things to do in the building. Engagements to attended, parties to plan. Some things had to give way, and it seemed his sharp sartorial tendency was one of them.

He exited his apartment, making sure to lock his door behind him, and made his way down the obstacle course that was his floor’s hallway. Deftly stepping over a large black garbage bag he averted his eyes from the couple aggressively fucking over the railing of the stairwell. Not bothering to respond he ignored the throaty invitation from the woman to join them. Once, not too long ago, he might have considered it, but not now. He had other plans tonight.

When he arrived at the appointed apartment Laing handed the bottle of Riesling over to the hostess with a smile, his cool, sharp eyes surveying the scene. Music blared, people danced in trance like states or frenzied euphoria depending on their temperament. Everywhere were drugs and booze and sex. As it should be. What else were parties for?

In the beginning he had indulged in all of these vices and more. Modestly speaking, Laing could truthfully boast of screwing at least half of the women present in those first days of the troubles. They had come to him, individually, in pairs, or in groups, after word had begun to spread of what an “excellent amenity” he was. He had gladly indulged them, seeking his own release as he gave them the pleasure their husbands or partners either would or could not provide. 

In the end, though, it had all begun to sour for him. They were not there, not really. Not a single one of the desperate, almost feral women he shagged had evidenced any sign of real emotion, of anything more than a physical desire. He was a sex doll to them, Laing realized, nothing more than that. A human shaped toy to fuck and forget. Never more than a passing object to the jaded socializing females who passed through his bed. He wanted, _needed_ something else.

Her. Grace.

He had first noticed her at a party three weeks ago. She had not come out much before then, choosing to keep to her own unit. Once the troubles started, however, that was no longer a viable option. One needed allies these days, and that meant socializing. She had had no other option than to venture out and mingle with her neighbors. Which had brought her to Laing’s attention.

Grace was so different from the others. Beautiful, yes, in a wholesome, farm fresh way that was startlingly out of place in the urban high rise. It was her eyes, though, that made her irresistible to Laing. There was a innocence that shone in them, along with an untapped passion. She was more present, more alive, than anyone he had seen in ages. It excited him. He wanted that freshness, that passion. He wanted someone under him who was alive, who would truly feel what he was doing to her, and make him feel as well.

All through the party he watched her from the other side of the room. He maintained his distance, chatting with other guests as his eyes followed her hesitant mingling like some Alfa predator stalking his oblivious prey. She drank, of course, but not nearly as much as most. It amused him that she thought that would keep her safe. She should know better.

When three hours had slipped by and things began to get truly raucous, Grace said a polite goodnight to her hostess and a few other acquaintances and made her exit. Laing waisted no time following. He kept just far enough behind her not draw her suspicion as she teetered down the hall, high heels wobbly on the littered floor.

He knew where her apartment was, of course. He had been planning this, after all, and he was a bit of a perfectionist. When she carefully unlocked and opened her door, it was the easiest thing in the world to step up from behind her and wrap one long arm around her, covering her mouth with his large hand. The other hand emerged from his pocket holding a small syringe which he quickly placed at her neck.

"Just a little pinch," he murmured, the oft repeated words from his practice coming out automatically as he injected the sedative into her.

Grace had no time to even struggle as he felt her body stiffen and then go limp in his waiting arms. That in itself was enough to send blood pumping down to his semi-hard cock. Dropping the needle to the floor he hooked his arms under her and dragged her across the hall to his awaiting apartment. No one saw him, but really who would care? It was every man for himself these days.

Everything was prepared when he got her inside his unit. Gently he laid her onto his bed, arranging her limbs so that they spread out into a large x shape. With almost loving care he secured her ankles and wrists into the velvet lined restraints he had attached to the head and foot boards and sat back to wait for her to wake.

It was the longest hour of his life. Laing had to leave the room at one point to stop himself from breaking down and availing himself of her nubile body. As sweet as it would feel to sink into her now, the whole point of this exercise was to experience the bliss of taking a woman who was not in a state of unconsciousness. To hear her cries, her moans, her beautiful begging as he made her feel just how deep each of his thrusts went into her welcoming sex. He masturbated to the thought of it in his living room before allowing himself to go back into the bedroom.

When she finally fluttered her eyelids open and groaned he was sitting anxiously in the arm chair, staring at her. A slow smile spread across his face as she frantically realized her bound state and darted her eyes around the room. When she saw him sitting there, hands folded neatly in his lap, intense look in his ice blue eyes, her jaw dropped.

"Dr. Laing," she gasped. "What... what is going on? Why am I here?"

"I am rescuing you," he told her, gallantly.

"Rescuing me?" she echoed dumbly, surreptitiously testing the bonds holding her wrists and finding them unyielding. "Was I in danger?"

"How could you doubt it?" he said, leaning forward in the chair. "Wilder has had his eye on you for days now. It was only a matter of time before he attacked you. Why, just tonight he was talking about how you were begging to be fucked hard by a real man."

"He was?" her eyes were huge as she looked at him, fear plain over her face.

"He was," he confirmed seriously. "And you've seen what the women he takes look like, broken and battered. Now, aren't you glad I saved you from that?"

"Yes," she said, managing a weak smile. "Thank you. Now, how about you untie me?"

"Oh, I think not," he said, rising and crossing to the bed. 

"Dr. Laing..."

"Wilder wasn't completely wrong," he told her, sitting on the edge of the bed and caressing her ankle with his thumb. Even that simple contact brought heat racing through him. "You are desperately in need of a good shagging.”

”Please don’t,” she said quietly pulling away as much as her bonds would let her.

”Come now, darling,” he cooed, running his hand up her calf, “you need to make friends if you are going to survive. And wouldn’t you rather it was me than him? I can make it very, very good for you.”

”You drugged me!” She accused, glaring at him.

”I didn’t want you hurting yourself with struggling,” he said nobly. “This way I could get you ready without causing any damage.”

”Ready for what?” She stuttered.

Laing just smiled and walked over to the bedside table. He picked up the small pair of scissors and dragged the point of them softly down her front from her neckline to the hem of her blouse.

”Well,” he said, enjoying the way her body shivered, “here is my present, all tied up for me. I suppose I should unwrap it.”

Starting at the hemline this time he worked his way back up the blouse, snipping the material as he went. The noise of tearing fabric mixed nicely with her pathetic whimpers.

”Not my best work,” he frowned when he looked down at the jagged line he had cut, “but you are rather squirmy. Not a problem I usually have with my patients, all things considered. Now, shall we have a look?”

Savoring the moment he pulled apart her shirt, displaying a red lace bra just covering her full breasts.

”Well,” he grinned, sucking air in through his teeth, “aren’t you just full of surprises!”

Unable to resist any longer, he lowered his head to her glorious cleavage, licking and biting her breasts where they spilled out over the tops of the bra cups while his big hands pushed them up from underneath. The whimpers she made as he marked her spurred him on, and groaned as he took as much of one breast as he could into his eager mouth, sucking her nipple to a hard nub through the flimsy material.

When he had at last had his full, at least temporarily, he sat up and admired his handiwork. Large bruises were beginning to form, decorating her with red where he had lingered the longest. 

“Oh dear,” he said in mock concern. “I seem to have torn the fabric of your pretty bra. Well, we can’t have you wearing soiled clothing, now can we?”

Reclaiming the scissors he took great delight in cutting away her bra, slicing each of the straps and then the center between her lovely mounds of flesh before pulling it off of her and tossing it away. Growling at her revealed breasts he lunged forward to suckle her again, desperate to taste her without the interfering garment.

”I can’t wait until they are full of milk,” he told her, eyes shining as he squeezed one and licked the nipple. “I long to drink from you.”

”But... but that would mean I was...” Grace gasped, horrified.

”Pregnant?” He supplied. “Oh yes. Considering how much I plan on fucking you, I assume it will happen eventually.”

”No,” she sobbed, a tear standing out in the corner of her eye. “If you insist on doing this, please, please Dr. Laing, I beg you to use protection.”

”Shhh,” he soothed her, stroking her hair. “No need to worry pretty one. I tested myself for all known sexual diseases and I’m clean. I haven’t touched any of the slags out there since. And even when I did I always wore something. With you though, princess, with you I want you to feel all of me. And I can’t wait to experience the slick of your precious cunt without anything in the way. I am going to fuck you hard and deep and bare, and spend my cum so far inside of you you will never get me out. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

”You’re insane!” She whispered, staring in horror.

”Possibly,” he shrugged. “Most of us are. But I am not wrong. And I am not wrong when I tell you that you are going to be begging me to do it again once we are done. Now, dare I hope for a matching set?”

Raising one eyebrow, he happily began cutting away her long skirt to reveal, as he had wished for, red lace panties.

”You are quite a closet slut, aren’t you,” he smirked, running the flat of the scissors over her spread open center. “Tell me, who were you hoping to bring home with you tonight?”

”No one,” she cried, body trembling.

”Liar!” He snapped, hand slapping down onto her lace covered pussy and making her cry out. “Good girls don’t wear red underwear. You were planning on seducing someone tonight.”

"I swear I wasn't!" she insisted, tears forming again. "They were just what I had clean."

"You are a little lying whore," he accused, ripping the panties from her body without bothering to use the sheers. 

Grace screamed as her last remaining piece of clothing was rent from her. Laing seized the moment to place his mouth over hers, inserting his tongue into the opening. She tasted of wine and sweets, an enchanting combination. Half lying across her spread out body he kissed her long and thoroughly, nipping at her lower lip and laving his tongue about her mouth. While he distracted her with his lips, his hand snaked down to her midsection and he ran a testing finger through her uncovered slit, testing the feel of it.

"You're wet, darling," he purred in her ear as he joyed in the discovery. "I told you you were a slut. Here you are, tied to the bed, stripped naked to my eyes, completely at my mercy, and your pussy is dripping onto the sheets. You like this."

"No," she panted, face flushed in shame. "No, I don't"

Without warning Laing sunk two of his long fingers far into her cunt, causing her to gasp and stifle a moan. He pumped them in and out a few times, thumb ghosting over her clit, before pulling them out to hold up before her. There, clear as day, was the proof of her arousal, wet and shiny on his fingers. While she watched in despair he raised his fingers to his lips and obscenely sucked them clean.

"You taste as good as you look," he told her, eyes raking over her.

It was true, she was both gorgeous and delicious. Wanting to get a better look, Laing moved further onto the bed, settling himself an his knees between her separated ankles. From this angle he had a perfect look at her gaping pussy. Grace gave a horrified little cry as he reached in and spread her wider apart. As expected she was swollen plump with desire, her sex glistening with slick.

"I think I am in need of a snack," Laing told her, smirking at her, "and here is this magnificent meal, all laid out for me."

He began teasingly, licking up her inner thigh, pausing occasionally to administer a sharp love bite to heighten the experience for her. It didn't take long, however, before he could take no more and he ran the flat of his tongue over her in one long lap. Her body convulsed, hips moving off the bed, and he chuckled into her heat. Working up her slit with cat like licks, he came at last to her waiting clit and sucked it into his mouth. Grace let out a breathy groan as he worked it with his tongue, flicking at it before sucking hard as he delved into her cunt. Alternating back and forth, he soon had her panting and mewling despite her best efforts to remain silent. Laing smiled to himself. She was feeling every lick, every bite, every suck he administered to her sensitive core. She might be fighting it, but there was no hiding how her body was responding to his worship, and it made him feel like a king. When she finally lost the battle and came with a loud, shuddering cry, he drove her through it, sucking every drop of her orgasm into his waiting mouth.

"Well, it certainly sounded like you enjoyed that," he smirked, rising to look down at her flushed body where it writhed on the bed. "But I think, all things considered, it is only fair that I give you your turn."

Climbing off the bed, Laing made fast work of his clothes, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. Grace's haunted eyes watched as he stood before him, all hard muscle under pale skin, his cock standing proud and engorged against the flat plains of his stomach.

"Oh yes, my little whore," he grinned seeing how she gaped at his size. "This is going down your throat, and expect you to take it all. Now, open your mouth like a good girl."

Grace's lips stubbornly closed tight as Laing made his way up her body to straddle her torso. Impatiently he slapped the head of his cock against them, but she just shook her head. Not to be outdone, he reached down and pinched hard on her left nipple, twisting as he did so. When Grace gave a reflexive cry of pain he shoved fast and hard into her open mouth.

"Oh God, you feel good," Laing groaned, pushing as far in as he could until he hit the back of throat. "This mouth was made to be fucked! So wet and welcoming. Now suck and lick, there's a good little slut!"

Thrusting shallowly he leaned his head back and moaned his pleasure. When he had gotten into the rhythm he grabbed a hunk of her hair and held her head still, balls slapping against her chin, pressing deeper until she gagged around him. The sounds of her slurps excited him, and as if against her will she did indeed start using her tongue, swirling it around his cock as he fucked her face. Her plump lips gripped him tightly and he began to feel his climax nearing. It was with an almost inhuman effort that he pulled out of her mouth, panting at the loss.

"Oh, you have an excellent mouth, darling," he praised her. "I so look forward to filling it with my cum. But not tonight. Tonight, I spill into your womb."

"No," she tried one last time. "No, take my mouth. I'll suck, I'll lick, I'll do whatever your want!"

"Oh, you will," he agreed, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth through the wetness of her folds. "Don't try lying to me, Grace. You've seen it doesn't work. Haven't I given you pleasure tonight?"

She looked at him without speaking, but he could see the doubt clearly in her eyes.

"Do you think, precious girl, that Wilder, or one of the pricks from the upper floors, would have taken the time to make you cum? Answer me!"

"N...no," she admitted in a hesitant voice.

"Do you think they would make you so wet? You can't deny that you are drenched for me, darling."

"I... no," she said again, lowering her eyes.

"You know how life here works," he told her, circling her clit with the head of his cock. "You are the predator or the prey. I hate to tell you this, love, but you will never be a predator. You are destined, in this place, to fall prey to someone."

"It's not fair!" she wailed, bringing a smile to his face.

"Fair has nothing to do with it," he said. "It is life in the high rise. Kill or be killed, fuck or be fucked. You know this. I've seen you take everything in. You are not stupid, only innocent."

"I don't want to be innocent," she protested.

"Well then, you're in luck. I can help with that," he grinned. "Just tell me one thing, darling. Who did you wear the underwear for tonight?"

Her body was responding despite her again, bucking up towards him where he rubbed against her. Her little white teeth worried at her lip as her eyes looked away from him. She was near the breaking point, he could tell. Leaning forward, Laing placed a long, sucking kiss to the spot below her ear, drawing out a shuddered cry.

"Who, darling?"

"You!" she cried out, eyes welling with tears. "I wore them for you."

"You were hoping to catch me eye?" it was not really a question. "What happened?"

"I lost my nerve," she said on a little sob. "Every woman in the room wanted you, who was I to try to have you?"

"Sweetheart, you are far more desirable than any of those used up hags. I have watched you for weeks, wanting you, planning this."

He smiled fondly as she cried. She was so real, possessed of so much emotion. It was joy to see.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Grace," he told her, placing himself at her entrance. "Tell me you want that."

Eyes wide and slightly crazed, Grace looked up at him. She licked her lips, drew in a deep breath and nodded tersely.

"Words, darling. Use them."

"I want that," she whispered.

"Want what?" he demanded.

"I want you to fuck me," she said in a rush. "Oh please, god, Laing, fuck me. Fuck me until I can't breath or see. Make me cum so hard I forget this place. Forget the hell that surrounds us."

"I thought you'd never ask," he grinned, and with one long thrust he sheathed himself to the hilt.

The combined moan they uttered filled the room just as his cock filled her cunt. She was tight and wet around him, pulling him in and choking him with her pussy walls. Laing growled deep in his chest and began pounding into her, not giving her more than a moment to adjust to his staggering size. She was so wet from his previous administration that despite the tightness of her he slid in and out with relative ease, squelching and slapping noises adding to the smell of sex to give the room a debauched atmosphere. He had never felt anything as good as her he thought, mouth dropping to play at her breast as he fucked her into the mattress.

He had been so close to cumming when in her pretty mouth; it did not take long before he was on the edge again. Reaching down between them, he stroked over her clit adding to her over stimulation.

"Cum with me, darling," he panted in her ear. 

Thrusting a handful of times more, Laing let out a deafening cry and, as promised, spilled deep into womb, pulling her over the cliff with him.

When he had cum down from his climax, Laing gently untied his beautiful darling and gathered her into his arms.

"You're not alone anymore," he told her, stroking her. "You are mine. And I protect what is mine, be it my paint, my apartment, or my woman. Don't worry darling, you are going to love the high rise life."


End file.
